


Many A Knot Unravel'd By The Road

by lille082



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00Q Reverse Bang, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blizzards, First Meetings, James is a loveable asshole, M/M, Q is a greyhat hacker, Stranded, cabin in the woods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lille082/pseuds/lille082
Summary: A job gone wrong, a blizzard, and a cabin in the middle of nowhere inhabited by one of the most interesting men he'd ever met.  Q had no idea what he was getting himself into.





	Many A Knot Unravel'd By The Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pettikotes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettikotes/gifts).



> I am so happy to be able to post this submission to the 00Q Reverse Big Bang for 2017-2018! I had the honor to be the second author to lay claim to some amazing artwork by [pettikotes](http://pettikotes.tumblr.com/), which is the inspiration for this fic. It's such a beautiful piece of art and I've had a wonderful time writing this! This fic will be posted in four parts (including an epilogue), so please keep watch for updates <3

 

* * *

 

”No! No, no, no, no, no, no!”Q slammed his hands against the steering wheel as the piece of shit he was driving puttered to a stop.He closed his eyes, dropped his head back against the seat, and groaned.

This fucking job had been cursed since the beginning—not that Q believed in such things, but he was about to change his mind. He glared out the windshield at the snow swirling in the beams of the headlights. 

Why he decided Saskatchewan was the best place to lie low, he wasn’t sure.Well, no, that wasn’t entirely accurate.The algorithm he’d run about the movements of his most recent ‘employers’ and where they’d be least likely to find him determined that Saskatchewan was one of the best locations where he could disappear.But it just _had_ to be in the middle of January, didn’t it?

Q removed the key from the ignition and began to search the car he had _definitely not_ stolen, looking for an emergency kit or road flare—anything at all useful.He puzzled for a moment about what exactly he could MacGuyver from the jumper cables, empty water bottle, and torch he’d found before abandoning the entire idea altogether.He twisted his body over the centre console, grabbed his rucksack, and pulled it into the passenger seat.

Despite having a precise mental catalogue of what was in it, he rummaged through his clothes and equipment only to confirm he was indeed underprepared to survive in a car that couldn’t go anywhere during what appeared to be the beginning of quite a snow storm.Taking stock of the situation, he pulled his knit stocking cap on and opened the car door.

 

* * *

 

“ _At least the wind is at my back_ ,” he thought bitterly as he trudged through the accumulating snow, now deep enough to find its way into the tops of his boots. He readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and squinted into the darkness.

The torch did little more than illuminate the first few feet in front of him and Q felt his chest tighten in momentary panic when he found he couldn’t tell if he was still following the road or not.The wide berth between the trees suggested he was, but he could no longer distinguish where there should have been blacktop or grass or, hell, an open body of water.He looked around, sincerely hoping he hadn’t misjudged the distance he’d driven since passing the last inhabited house.

He continued to follow the clearing between trees, the wind and his laboured breathing all he could hear.Q was reasonably sure that his toes were about to freeze right off just as he cleared a curve in the road and was able to make out a faint light in the distance.

He sighed with relief, his warm breath fogging up his glasses, and he attempted to pick up his pace.By the time the actual cabin came into view, his nose and cheeks were wind chaffed and numb while his body had begun to overheat from the exertion and heavy layers he was wearing.

A cheerful plume of smoke issued from the chimney and the windows cast long, golden streaks of light across the settled snow.Q climbed the snow-laden stairs of the porch and knocked on the door with his fist.

A minute passed, then two.He knocked again, longer this time, pulling his scarf down from over his mouth to speak.

“Hello?”His throat was dry from inhaling the cold air, and he coughed before trying again.“Hello?Please…My car broke down and I—”

He paused as he heard the scrape of the deadbolt turning and watched hopefully as the door opened a fraction, stopped by the still-locked chain.

“Er, hi,” Q started again, unable to tear his gaze from the man’s ice blue eyes.“My car broke down a bit down the road, and I was hoping…”

He trailed off, not at all sure what he needed in this moment.

“Hoping for what?”

Q blinked back his surprise as he registered a familiar accent weaving through the deep, quiet voice. 

“Well…um, help, I suppose.”Q grimaced.

The man cast a long, calculating glance over Q before nodding once and shutting the door.Q’s anxiety spiked for a moment at the thought that maybe that had been a dismissal, and he couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face as the door swung open a second later, no longer locked by the chain.

He tried to clean his shoes off and shake off any extra snow himself outside before stepping over the threshold.The man shut the door behind him with a dull thud, turning the deadbolt and slipping the chain back in place.He watched Q unwind the scarf from around his neck with a scrutinising glare.

Q worked on taking his boots off, mumbling his thanks profusely, trying to size the man up without actually looking at him. He was wearing a t-shirt and joggers, a sharp contrast to the chill outside.Q didn’t fail to notice he appeared to be built of solid muscle as he crossed his arms over his chest, forearms flexing as they did so.

“I-um…I really appreciate you letting me in.Is there a phone I can use?”

“Phone lines went down earlier this evening.I’m guessing it was the wind, but I suppose there's no knowing until this lets up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He walked over to the kitchenette along one wall and filled an iron kettle with water, then placed it on the wood burning stove in the centre of the cabin.“You can stay until this stops and they clear the roads, and I can drive you into town for a tow-truck if you’d like.”

Q blinked in surprise. 

“Oh, that’d be excellent.Thank you, Mister…?”

“Sterling.Richard Sterling.”He held his hand out to shake Q’s.

Q accepted it and smiled.“Mister Sterling.”

“Richard, please.”

“Richard.Geoffrey Boothroyd, but it’s a bit of a mouthful, so everyone calls me Q.”

“Nice to meet you, Q.”Richard smiled, and Q had a glimmer of hope that he wasn’t some backwoods serial killer.He could still see the tension in his shoulders; he was wary of him, and Q figured he had every right to be.

Q shrugged out of his wet jacket and pulled the hat off his head before looking around further.“Is there a good place to hang these to dry?I’m afraid they’re rather soaked through.”

Richard frowned as he looked at the garments, then retreated down a long hallway off the main cabin.He returned with a clothing rack, which he set up next to the stove. Q drank in the warmth radiating from it as he peeled his wet socks off, adding them to the rack next to his outerwear.

“Is there somewhere I can change?” Q kept his tone soft and polite.He looked up to find Richard still watching him intently.

“Of course.”He motioned for Q to follow him with a tilt of his head and lead him down the hallway.

“Loo is the second door on the left.This,” he opened the first door on the right, “is the spare bedroom.”

“Oh,” Q breathed, setting his bag down on the floor in the doorway.“I’d be more than happy to take the couch, honestly.I don’t want to impose.”

Richard snorted, and Q turned to him with a shy smile.“Don’t worry about it.No one’s using it and, despite appearances, that couch is a bitch to fall asleep on.”

“Well, thank you.This is…thanks.”

“Of course.” He paused, looking over Q and his bag before turning towards the door.“Change.I’ll make some tea.”

He was out of the room before Q could try to awkwardly thank him again.

Q pulled on the thickest jumper he had and changed into a different pair of jeans, grateful for Richard’s hospitality.It was just…he almost wondered why he’d even let him in.With his coloured background, Q usually dealt with people who would sooner shoot a stranger at their door than allow them inside.The fact that this man let him in without further information was unsettling, but not unwelcome.He tried to push it from his mind—gift horse and all that.

He slipped on a dry pair of socks, then a second pair, his toes tingling painfully as they warmed up.He gathered his damp clothes into his arms and padded down the hall.

Q draped his jeans on the drying rack along with the shirt he’d been wearing before slipping into one of the kitchen chairs that surrounded a small wooden table.He glanced around the cabin, able to fully take it in for the first time; cosy wasn’t the best word, but neither was rustic or impersonal.It was practical, Q decided.The large wood burning stove appeared to be the focus of the open space, with the kitchen and living area built around it.From the warmth it produced, Q understood why.

There wasn’t any kitschy decor he’d come to associate with cabins—no trophies mounted on the wall or anything decorated with antlers.Just sturdy wooden furniture and a somewhat comfortable looking armchair and sofa set.Two bookshelves flanked the couch on the far wall, filled with what appeared to be a wide variety of mass-market paperbacks.There wasn’t a television or computer in sight.

Q idly wondered if Richard was one of those doomsday preppers as he eyed the shotgun propped up against the wall by the back door.

Richard slipped a steaming mug of tea in front of Q before sitting in the chair across from him.Q wrapped his cold fingers around the cup and smiled gratefully.

“Your cabin is lovely,” Q said softly, lifting the mug to his mouth, taking a cautious sip.Richard looked around, appearing surprised at the compliment.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” he said quietly.

Q took a moment to study him surreptitiously from behind his mug.Closely cropped blonde hair screamed military to Q, which would help to explain the tidy simplicity of his surroundings.His handsome face, on closer inspection, was beginning to show signs of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and a worry line between his brow.His ears stuck out just a bit, adding an oddly charming, off-beat quality to the man.And those eyes, so blue…

Q cleared his throat and looked away when he realised he’d been caught staring.He hoped he could blame the blush on his cheeks being wind chaffed.

“So, Q,” Richard’s voice was quiet, deep, and oddly calming to Q.“What brings you to the middle of nowhere?”

Q chuckled and set his mug down in front of him.“Just passing through, honestly.I didn’t expect to get a blizzard as a welcome gift.”

Richard smirked, one side of his mouth lifting up as he looked at him.

“Welcome to Canada,” he said dryly.

Q laughed.“Have you lived here long?”

Richard shook his head.“A few months.”

“Oh,” Q nodded, averting his gaze in favour of looking around a bit more.

Richard hummed and sipped from his mug.They sat in silence for some time before Richard spoke again.

“I’ll be honest; I’m rather surprised to meet a fellow expat out here.Bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?” He asked levelly.

Q blinked before smiling tightly.“I was thinking the same thing.What are the odds?”

“Yeah.”Richard's eyes didn’t leave Q’s face.“What do you do, Q?”

“I work with computers.”

“Ah,” Richard nodded, scanning over his skinny frame with what appeared to be comprehension.“What kind of work?IT?”

Q tried to hide his smile by taking a sip of tea. 

“Ah, not quite.I’m a computer engineer, but I have a few different interests.Information security, OS and backend work, network design.”He shrugged.“Stuff like that.”

“Explains why you wanted to get inside instead of waiting out the storm in your car.You travel with your equipment?”

“Yeah,” Q lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

Richard sat back in his chair.“So, your employer is in Saskatoon?”

“No, I freelance.I do some mechanical engineering on the side, so it lets me be a bit more flexible than some nine to five would.”

“Forgive me, but…shouldn’t you try to get more experience before starting out on your own?”

Q bristled, pushing his glasses up to try to mask it.“Age is no guarantee of efficiency.”

Richard held up his hands in a placating gesture.“Sorry, it’s just…you look so young.”

Q frowned and took a sip of tea.“So I’m told.But that’s hardly relevant.”

Richard nodded, looking sufficiently cowed.After a few minutes of silence between them, he cleared his throat.

“Since you’re not from around here, where does your work usually take you when you’re not just passing through?”

Q smiled.“London.”

Richard nodded, and Q thought he might have seen the flicker of a frown cross his face, but it was gone before he could tell for sure.

“What about you?What do you do?” Q paused for a moment, considering their surroundings.“Or, did you do?”

“I was Royal Navy.”

Q smiled and took another sip of his tea.“What brought you here?”

Richard considered the question, his eyes not leaving Q’s face.“Change of scenery.”

Q nodded in silence, understanding that his line of inquiry wasn’t exactly welcome and that was as much detail as he’d get.He changed the topic, instead asking after things that maybe weren’t as off-limits.

They talked their way through their birthplaces, their worst primary school memories, favourite kinds of music and movies, the current state of England’s foreign policy, the most recent Premier League standings, and two more cups of tea each.

Q eventually caught himself yawning after every other sentence and was surprised to find it was nearing midnight when he glanced at his watch.They’d settled into a comfortable rapport enough for him to lose track of time, and he distantly realised his day was finally catching up with him.

He drained his mug of tea, earning an expectant look from Richard.

“More?”

“No, thank you.I’m rather tired; I think I’m going to turn in.”

Richard nodded, not moving from his chair.“I’m just down the hall, so let me know if you need anything.”

Q thanked him with a small smile and retreated to the guest bedroom.

Once in his room, Q nudged the door not quite shut with his foot, closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.He hated small talk, but something about his host made him more receptive to it than he would usually be.There was something…odd about Richard and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.He seemed kind—he opened his home to him, for god’s sake—but he was calculating and cold at times.He’d warm up and become passionate about a topic or get lost in conversation, but once he realised what he was doing, he’d shut down.May he was just hesitant to share too much of himself with a stranger?

He reached into his large bag after depositing it on the bed, rummaging in it for his pyjamas.The bag contained almost his entire livelihood, and Q was rather proud he had a small enough footprint that he could pack it all up and disappear as needed.He pulled his laptop and charging cables out, placing them on the nightstand for him to deal with in a minute.He found his pair of joggers practically at the bottom of the bag, and it only took another minute to find his shirt.

He’d wrapped his modified .9mm sub-compact Beretta in the oversized t-shirt he usually slept in, along with his spare magazine.He didn’t like to carry it on him, but he knew it was at least pragmatic for him to keep one near in his line of work.It wasn’t that he didn’t like guns or felt uncomfortable using them, it was that he just really wasn’t a fan of blood.He examined the weapon perfunctorily before setting it aside on the bedspread.

He decided to throw his jumper back on in deference to the chill after he changed into his sleep ware.He set about plugging his laptop in to charge, booting it up in the process.Of course, there were no networks found when it tried to connect to the nearest secure signal automatically.Q figured there probably wasn’t a wireless network within a 20-kilometre radius.

He returned to the side of the bed, picking up the Beretta and hesitating.He would typically just wrap it up again in another piece of clothing and shove it in one of the outer pockets, but he was in a stranger’s home, in the middle of nowhere.It didn’t hurt to be too cautious in this type of situation, did it? 

Q shook his head, clearing his thoughts.He was being paranoid.He was on edge and exhausted; Richard wasn’t about to come into his room in the night and try to murder him.If that were his plan, he’d have probably done it already.

Q picked up a pair of pants to wrap the gun in as Richard knocked on the door.It swung open slowly on its hinges.

“Here are some towels in case you wanted to—” Richard cut off abruptly, his eyes flitting from Q’s face, down to the Beretta, and back up again.

Before Q had a chance to open his mouth, the towels fell to the floor, landing with a soft thump, and he registered a blossom of pain along the underside of his jaw.

Hands closed over his wrists in a vice-like grip, and he felt an elbow embed itself sharply between his shoulder blades.His breath left him in a rush as Richard pushed him down face-first onto the bed with the force of his full weight.

“Who are you?” Richard’s voice was low and dangerous in his ear.

Q whined as the grip on his wrists tightened, and a flare of panic rushed through him.

“Wha-” He tried to gasp out a response, but Richard began to force his right arm up and back to grab the gun.He groaned in pain as his shoulder was forced nearly out of its socket.

Richard kept his elbow in place, weight still heavy on Q as he transferred his wrists into one hand and shifted over him.Calloused fingers closed around the Beretta in his grip and took it from him.Q’s glasses dug into the bridge of his nose and cheekbone against the quilted bedspread.

“Who the fuck are you?” Richard growled again, pulling him up off the bed only to push him roughly against the wall.

The sheer amount of adrenaline and panic coursing through Q’s blood left him unable to form a response.Richard twisted his arm up and back again, Q crying out in pain as did.

“Who do you work for?”His voice was hard, and when Q didn’t answer, he tightened his grip, causing tears to spring to Q’s eyes.

“Please--” Q gasped.

“Please what?” Richard’s breath was hot in his ear, and Q tried to swallow back his panic.

“Please, don’t.I-I’ll go, just please, not my hands or arms, please.”

A moment of silence passed before the pressure on his wrists and shoulder eased fractionally.He whimpered but remained entirely still.

Richard took a deep breath behind him, and his voice came out calmer, but still cold.

“Who are you working for?”

Q shook his head as much as he could with it flush against the wall.

“I’m not,” he gasped.“I’m not working for anyone, I swear.”

“How did you track me here?”

Q frowned, blinking in confusion.“I told you…I-I drove past and saw the lights on.”

Richard growled in frustration.“Who are you with?”

“No one, it’s just me.I promise it’s just me.”

In a flash, Q was flipped around with his back against the wall, his head striking the wood panelling.Richard pinned him with one of his forearms over his chest and pushed Q’s own Beretta under his chin.Fuck.

Ice blue eyes narrowed, searching his face.

“What’s your name?”

“Boothroyd.”

“Your _real_ name.”

“That _is_ my real name.Geoffrey Quintus Boothroyd.”

Richard stared at him intently for what seemed to be forever.Eventually, the pressure of his arm lessened, and he nodded towards the hallway.

“Go on, you first.”

Q stared at him for a moment, a flash of alarm rushing through him at the thought of turning his back on him.Jesus fuck, he should have just let himself freeze to death in the goddamn car.

Richard raised an eyebrow at him, and he swallowed.He shuffled forward slowly, raising his hands as Richard kept the gun trained on him.He stepped over the towels and into the hallway.

“Kitchen.”Richard’s voice was gruff and closer to him than Q had anticipated.

He nodded and ambled as instructed, trying to telegraph his movements to avoid causing any reaction.Richard pushed him into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Hands flat on the table,” Richard ordered, walking back into the kitchen, gun still trained on him.“I see you move, and I’ll shoot you in the kneecap, understood?”

Q nodded, obeying the order.He watched in silence as Richard picked up the phone mounted on the kitchen wall.

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I thought you said the phone lines were down.”

“I lied.”

Q watched as he lifted the receiver to his ear and tucked it between his shoulder.He pushed the switch hook down thrice, pressed a few numbers, then turned his gaze back to Q in silence.Q vaguely wondered if one could still summon an operator these days.

The stared at each other, the space between them heavy until Richard began to speak.

“I’ve got a visitor…No, says he’s alone and doesn’t work for anyone…Did you get visuals enough to run a scan?”

Q frowned, taking in the one-sided conversation.

“Yeah.Boothroyd, Geoffrey…Quinlan?” He lifted an eyebrow at Q for confirmation.

He licked his lips, shaking his head before replying, “Quintus.”

He relayed the correction and waited expectantly.A few minutes passed before he frowned.“You’re sure? Hmm………Of course, sir.Keep me updated.Yes, sir.”

He hung up.

Q watched warily as he switched the safety back on and tucked the gun into the back of his joggers.He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head to the side as he continued to scrutinise Q.

Richard broke the silence rather abruptly. 

“Drink?”

Q opened his mouth incredulously, but closed it and nodded instead.He remained exactly where he was, not moving, and watched as Richard crossed in front of him to grab a couple of mugs down from the cupboard.

“Are you going to let me leave?”He willed his voice not to tremble.

He looked over his shoulder at Q, quirking an eyebrow.“If I kicked you out right now, where would you go?What would you do?”

Q frowned as he considered his options.He could try walking further up the road, or he could go back to that car and…freeze to death before anyone could find him.Q sighed in resignation.

“Thought so,” he turned back to the kitchenette and retrieved something from one of the lower cabinets.He strode over to the kitchen table and settled into the chair across from Q, setting two mugs down in front of him.He twisted the top off what Q now recognised to be a bottle of scotch and poured a generous amount into both cups.He slipped one towards Q.

Q stared at him in apprehension, his posture still rigid, hands still flat on the table.But the man sitting across from him had lost the tension he’d had only minutes before and looked loose and comfortable as he threw back the contents of the mug.

“Go on.It’s not poisoned or anything,” he said as he poured himself a second helping.

Q tentatively reached for the mug in front of him, sniffing it for a moment before downing it in two swallows.It burned in the best way as it settled in his belly, and he realised it was a rather high-quality scotch for them to be taking shots.He reached for the bottle and poured himself some more.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes before Richard cleared his throat.

“Look, I’m sorry about…” He gestured towards Q’s face, and Q registered the fact that his jaw was throbbing.

He raised a hand to rub over it gingerly, wiggling it back and forth to test his range of movement.“It’s fine.”

He nodded and stared at Q for a bit before setting his mug down heavily on the table.

“I need you to tell me why you’re here.Middle of fucking nowhere here, not this cabin here.I’ll know if you’re lying and I’ll throw you out in nothing but your jim jams if you do.But I need to hear the truth directly from you, got it?”

Q swallowed a bit more scotch and slowly nodded.“I’m not sure where to start…”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.“I’m not going anywhere.”

Q bit his lip, brow furrowed as he thought about exactly what to say.

“So, you asked what I do for a living?Everything I’ve told you is true. I _am_ a computer engineer; I do some mechanical engineering, but…my freelancing doesn’t necessarily stop at—”

“Resetting the WiFi?”

Q smiled tightly.“Something like that.”

“I see.”

Richard’s eyes didn’t leave his for a long time, and Q finally tore his gaze away to stare into his mug when he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“How long have you been on the run?”

Q looked up at him sharply.“Who said I was running?”

He raised an eyebrow at him.“I did.Just now”

Q frowned, unease settling in his stomach.“Why would you think that?

“You expect me to think you’re in the middle of the wilderness looking for new clients?Did Bigfoot call to ask you to set up his new smart home and maybe hack his neighbour’s computer while you’re at it?”

Q looked away and sighed in resignation.“Am I that obvious?”

Richard shook his head, smirking when Q looked back at him.“No, not really.It was a hunch.I’ve seen that look before.”

“What look?”

“You get this kind of desperation in your eyes when you aren’t telling the whole truth like you’re practically begging to believed.Like you don’t want anyone to ask too many questions.”

Q blinked a couple of times in shock.“Oh.”

Richard leaned forward to grab the bottle of scotch and poured both of them a bit more.“Don’t take it personally, kid.I just know what to look for.”

“Why?”Q frowned.“How do you know what to look for?”

His smirk grew.“Cause I’m on the run right now too.”

Q raised his eyebrows in disbelief.“I’m sorry?”

He shrugged.“Look, if you’re as bright as you seem, you’ve already figured out I haven’t exactly been honest either…My name’s Bond.James Bond.”

Bond, James Bond extended his hand out and Q accepted it cautiously.He could understand using a fake name.He belatedly realised he really should have introduced himself with one as well.He shook his hand.

“Okay…”

“Well, I suppose I’m not on the run so much as laying low at the moment.”

Seeing the question forming on Q’s lips, he held up a hand to stop him.“I can’t exactly tell you why.”

“…that’s convenient.”

Bond smiled.“What I can tell you is that I am an agent in Her Majesty’s government and we’re a safe house.”

Q had a moment during which his brain shortcircuited and he stared at Bond in silence.“I see.”

Bond chuckled, watching Q’s expression change each time he processed a new thought about this development.

“Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

Q looked at him incredulously.“I just told you, a Crown Servant, that I moonlight as a criminal.And if this is a _government_ safe house, as I’m assuming, I’m willing to bet you got that on film.Am I right?”

Bond waved his hand dismissively.“Don’t worry about it.It’s not like I’m going to arrest you.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“Not exactly, but even if it were, I still wouldn’t.I like you, Q.”

“You just held a gun to my head!” The exasperation in Q’s voice was beginning to take on a tone of mania.

Bond smirked at him, letting a touch of suggestiveness seep into his tone.“Doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

Q could feel him blushing despite himself.“I don’t see how that’s relevant.If you could hold a gun to my head, you could turn me in to your superiors.”

He leaned across the table, smiling.“But I won’t.”

Q sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts.A dull pounding was taking root behind his eyes.

“Okay, right.Now what?”

Bond leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.“You never answered my question.”

“What…”

“How long have you been on the run?”

Q bit his lip.“About three weeks.”

Bond frowned.“Where were you before you made it here?”

“I headed to the continent just to get out of town.Hopped a few trains while I got a plan in place.”

“A plan that involved becoming a hermit in backwoods Canada?”

“Sort of.”Q dug the heel of his hand against his forehead, trying to fight off an inevitable headache.“Look, it doesn’t matter.I’m not a threat to you or the government.I try to have some fucking standards.”

Bond sighed.“No, you’re not a threat, but maybe the people who are following you are.”

“They aren’t following me.”He asserted, willfully ignoring the fact that Bond somehow knew that he was running from someone and not the law in general.

“You sure about that?”

Q levelled him with a stare.“They’re not following me; they’re _looking_ for me.And from what I can tell, they don’t have a clue where to start.I’m good at what I do.There’s no way they’d be able to get a trace on me because if there were, I’d be dead already.”

Bond raised his eyebrows. “Who exactly did you piss off?”

Q shook his head.“Listen, if you don’t throw me out, I’ll be gone as soon as it stops snowing and you’ll never see me again.They’d never be able to link our meeting, let alone find this place or you.”

“Did you leave anyone behind in London?”

Q swallowed and stared as he considered the consequences of telling him everything.Bond observed him, taking in his silence.He sighed after it became apparent Q wasn’t going to answer him.

“If you’re afraid for your life, you’re not dealing with petty thieves, yeah?And if they’re looking for you, you can probably bet they’re looking into your family and friends.”

Q shook his head eventually.“There’s no one.”

Bond studied Q’s face, looking for any kind of a tell, but found none.He nodded slowly.“Okay.I know you don’t want to tell me anything else, and I get it, but…I could help you, Q.”

Q averted his gaze.“No.It’s—this is enough.I appreciate your concern, but I’ve gotten by alright so far.I don’t want to drag anyone else into it, certainly not the government.And besides, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

Bond sighed and stood up, grabbing both of their mugs and putting them in the sink.Q had the feeling this wasn’t the last he’d hear on the topic.

Q stood up and pushed in his chair.“I’m going to go to bed now.Thank you for the drink and for not shooting me, Mr. Bond.”

Bond genuinely laughed in response, and some of the tension eased from between Q’s shoulder blades. 

As Bond began to wash the mugs, he called out over his shoulder, “By the way, it’s supposed to keep snowing straight through until the day after tomorrow.Looks like you’re going to be here for a while.Sleep well, Mr. Boothroyd.”


End file.
